


Cold hands, Steady Pulse

by QuirkyFirst



Category: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Feels, Gen, Paralysis, Pre DOFP, post first class
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-19
Updated: 2015-09-19
Packaged: 2018-04-21 13:25:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4830710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QuirkyFirst/pseuds/QuirkyFirst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I know this isn't what you wanted<br/>Past words in the present are haunting us now<br/>And on and on and on and on<br/>My heartbeat could tell you it's urgent<br/>I try to shout but the words don't come out<br/>I feel them slipping away</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cold hands, Steady Pulse

You sit in your study, in the chair, in the dark. The dim light of the burning lamp highlights your pasty white skin, giving it the faintest glow. It's cold outside, and for some reason the heater won't function the way its supposed to. So you wrap your arms around your chest, and thank your friend for bringing you that blanket earlier. Your hands rub against eachother like sticks trying to start a fire, and for a moment you feel the heat returning to your limbs. Then, your heart pangs. A warm body doesn't mean you're alive. In fact, on the contrary. The cold stings, but you feel more at home I'm it. So you quit rubbing uoor hands, fold the blanket, a D embrace the chillness of the air. Maybe it'll wake you up. Maybe it'll steel you away from the dream state you've been in ever since they left. Your eyes drop to a photograph on your desk, and you can hardly stomach the feeling it gives you.  
Oh, how you miss Them.

You miss Him, with his emerald green eyes and his Cheshire Cat smike. You miss his sharp jaw, and his dark hair that couldn't decide if it were red, brown, or blonde. You miss his quiet determination, and his say-it-like-you-mean-it resolve. You laugh to yourself, but its full of pain, not humor. You wouldn't have believed it a few months ago, but you've ever come to miss his snarky remarks and his cold responses. You never really minded them, though. You knew it was because he was broken. You supoose you might be now, too.

You miss Her the most. The one He room with Him. The one He stole away. The one you called sister, though there was no blood you shared. Your bond was deeper than that; or at least, it was. You stare in silence at the image before you; focusing on Her. On her toothy grin, on her chubby cheeks and youthful eyes. She isn't much younger than you, but she never really seemed to age. Maybe that was just you. To you, she is still the same little girl you promised to protect. The same hungry child looking for food, who, moments after steeling some from your kitchen, became your sister. The only person you can say wholeheartedly that you love unconditionally.

Your vision tunnels a bit, and you grasp the splintering edges of your wooden desk. Oh Gosh, that feeling won't go away, will it? That numb sensation from the waist down... You cringe, and your stomach does flips. Things go in and out of existence, and you feel yourself getting dizzy. They left. When you stayed, through the pain and their sufferings, they left. Left you to deal with this all alone. You can never forgive Them.

But you can't stay mad at them. It's impossible. Because they're all you care about in the world. The broken soul who could be so bright. The sister who needs to know that she's loved... You start to rummage around in your desk. You pull out two articles of clothing; a necklace, and a black turtleneck. You chide yourself. Youre so sentimental. Still, you can't help yourself, as you bring the necklace to your lips, and hold the turtleneck close. The necklace has Her picture, but you can't look at it too long. Your eyes water, and you burry your face in the black shirt, the necklace enclosed in your fist. It's almost as if they're there with you.

But She's gone, and He's gone, and you still have a pulse.

**Author's Note:**

> Cordelliaaaaaa you inspired meeeeee 
> 
> Anyway, I had to write in second person for my Short Story Writing class, and this is what came out of the exercise. I hope ya'll enjoy it, because I won't be writing 2p very often. (CORDELIA HOW YOU DO IT BAE) 
> 
> Here is the Switchfoot song that I think goes with the one-shot. (Because I love finding songs that fit my fanfics) Have fun crying! 
> 
>  
> 
> Remember that kid with the quivering lip  
> Whose heart was on his sleeve like a first aid kit  
> Where are you now? Where are you now?
> 
> Remember that kid, didn't know when to quit  
> I still lose my breath when I think about it  
> Oh, where'd you go?  
> (Oh where'd you go?)
> 
> Oh oh  
> I feel like I'm dreaming  
> Oh oh  
> Staring up at the ceiling  
> Oh oh  
> It's four in the morning  
> I can't sleep and it feels like a warning  
> Oh oh  
> You wouldn't believe me  
> If I could say it just the way that I'm feeling  
> Oh oh  
> The words that I wanted to say  
> I feel them slipping away


End file.
